No Rest for the Wicked
by Chushingura
Summary: Sabretooth finds his mate and chaos ensues. Fucking typical.
1. Impulsivity

I do not own the X-Men universe or any characters or themes you recognize. I do this purely for my own enjoyment and wish fulfillment. Please don't sue me.

Warning: there will be course language, rape, violence, and sexual situations (including some kink) in this story. If that squicks, upsets, or triggers you, you should probably leave this story. Otherwise, read on and enjoy, my sugarplums!

* * *

Lina had always known that her bravery was going to get her in trouble. Even when she was just a child at the playground, she would stand up to the bullies, no matter how much bigger they were compared to her. She had never anticipated it would be this much trouble, though.

The scene in front of her had caught her eye as she was walking home from the grocery store. Usually she wouldn't have gone down this unlit side road. She did have some self preservation left - _how shocking_ - however she was anxious to get back to her apartment so she could have dinner, watch exactly an hour of TV, and go to bed. It was late and she had been working long hours in her internship at the hospital.

There was a huge man across the street from her. He was one of the tallest people she had ever seen, and he seemed to be heavily muscled, however he moved with the grace of a much lighter and more agile looking person. He wasn't the type who looked like he needed help, in fact he looked like someone who caused the trouble, until she saw a mugger sneak out from the alleyway and come up behind him with a knife in hand.

Without thinking about the consequences for herself, she screamed for him to look out.

Both the huge man and the mugger looked over and, before she could blink, the man had turned on the mugger and slashed at his throat. She hadn't even realized he had a weapon. It all happened so fast. Blood squirted everywhere from the jugular vein, covering him and the wall with red. That was all she saw before she felt someone knock her over the head from behind and it all went black.

* * *

This was just a big fuckin' mess that he didn't need on his hands. He had just been planning on getting rid of the bastards and getting his money. He certainly hadn't expected some bitch to screw that up and force him to work quicker and do a messier job than he'd originally planned. Why the fuck did she scream anyways? Most people would've run the other direction and pretend they didn't see anything, but this one risked her life for someone she didn't even know. And why did she smell so fucking good? It was like a cold drink on a hot day and suddenly he was fucking parched. He had never smelt anything so good before.

He should just leave her there. He didn't give a shit about some frail. No matter how good she smelled - she had already caused enough trouble for him. But there was something about her that made pleasure build in his groin. Made him want to take her back to his house and make sure she never left. No one had ever made him want more than a fuck. But just from her scent, something inside of him wanted to take her, protect her, claim her. She wasn't bad looking either; black hair, pale skin, and nice tits.

If he left her there, these guys had friends who would come looking for them and find her here. Then they would get all the fun with her. Fun that he deserved, given all the havoc she'd caused.

Fuck it. He couldn't just leave something so enticing there for someone else to have.

He picked her up and carried her into the warehouse beside them where he had put the bodies of the three scumbags. They stunk of blood, unwashed flesh, and rape, which overpowered the warm smell coming off the frail in his arms. It pissed him off.

He carried her to the other side of the building first and deposited her in the back seat of the Land Rover that was waiting there. He did the same with the dead bodies, piling them in the trunk.

First, he would dispose of them. Then, he would take her back to the house. She probably wouldn't wake up between then. The thugs had given her a pretty good knock to the head. If she did, she'd have front row seats to a nice, little show.

* * *

He sat on one of the chairs he'd had constructed specially for his size in his sitting room, contemplating the frail in front of him and contemplating his situation. He didn't have a fucking clue what as going on. As soon as he'd smelled her he had been drawn to her like a magnet, wanting to make sure she was okay, wanting to fucking _care_ for her, wanting to claim her and mark her and… shit. Mate with her. Not fuck, not rape, but mate. He'd fucking mated to this tiny little frail.

* * *

The back of her head, her stomach, and her hip were all screaming at her. The sharp pain radiating in each of them rushed her to her senses, making her aware that the soft cushion beneath her and lighting was unfamiliar. She sat up and surveyed her surroundings. Where ever she was, it was beautiful. It was done in ultra-modern looking furniture with old art on the walls. There was a small marble sculpture on a pedestal in one corner. This place was like a museum of contemporary art and the louvre all in one gilded room.

She was in a small sitting room of an obviously old house. The ceilings soared above her with beautiful original crown molding. There were bookshelves covering every wall. A steel grey coloured couch sat across from her, similar to the one that she was on. It seemed bigger than it should have, though. There was half a meter between her feet and the other end of the couch and she had plenty of space between the back and the edge of the seat. The matching chairs that were done in sleek lines seemed to be abnormally large as well. Weird. They were certainly nicer than the ikea furniture she had in her apartment, though.

What was she doing here, though? As nice as it was, she hadn't gone on any drinking binges lately. What had she done last night? She focused hard, trying to remember.

She took a sharp breath of air.

Oh my God.

The men in the alley.

Someone had hit her on the back of the head.

Oh, fuck.

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she heard heavy footsteps stop outside the door to the room. She quickly laid back down, closed her eyes, held her breath, and listened, pretending to be asleep. They were just standing there… a minute passed. They still hadn't moved. What were they waiting for?

She peeked her eyes open and almost screamed. Her heart jumped and started hammering in her chest and her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He was standing in front of her... the huge man who killed the other guy in the street. His face broke into a huge grin when their eyes met.

"Good morning, frail", his voice was whisper soft, almost a deadly purr. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

She stammered, a few mangled sounds escaping her lips, her words caught in the back of her throat. All her instincts told her to run. He seemed to anticipate this and angled his body so he was blocking the door. He crouched down in front of her, the grin still on his face.

My God, his eyes, she noticed, had slitted pupils like a cats and he had fangs. He was a... mutant. Her eyes darted to his hands. Where fingernails should have been, there were claws. Huge claws.

She froze. Her eyes glued to the monstrous weapons attached to him.

He saw where her attention had gone. "Like them?"

His voice was still that soft, dangerous purr.

She dragged her eyes away from them and up to meet his. His grin had turned into a smirk.

"Y-you k-k-illed that m-m-an", she stuttered softly, amazement in her tone. Her own words surprised her and made his eyes narrow, but he didn't say anything. Her breath caught in her throat and a scream started building in her chest when he suddenly dragged one clawed finger from her ear to her jaw.

Before she could react, he had grabbed hold of her and dragged her off the couch and into his arms. She got a nose full of his scent. He smelled of expensive body wash, fresh linens, and sweat. There was something underneath that, something that was _him_ that made her body respond instinctively. It was safety, comfort, belonging. It made her heart settle and a sharp, pleasurable jolt shot up between her legs. It made her want to feel him… taste him… she wanted to run her tongue over him, to bite him and mark him and never let go.

Wait, what the fuck?

Some strange, instinctual part of her psyche she hadn't even known existed had taken over. It was like they were two poles of magnets drawn together. Acting on instincts, she awkwardly grabbed his head and brought her lips to his neck, clamping her teeth down and sucking. She tasted his blood and, like a shark with a feeding frenzy, made her suck harder. Strangely, the wound stopped bleeding. She bit down again, harder, wanting to leave her mark. She felt a growl in his chest, which snapped her out of her ravaging his neck and brought her back to reality.

She was being held by a beast of a man and was sucking at his neck like some wild animal… what the fuck?

Her eyes shot up to his.

"I… I don't know what…"

She stammered and looked down at where her hands were clutching his shoulders, her nails digging into him, then looked at his neck. Where there should have been marks from her teeth and should have started bruising from the sucking, there was nothing.

He had a strange look on his face, his lips were drawn back, baring his teeth, although she couldn't tell if it was from pleasure, shock, or anger. Different emotions kept flickering over his eyes. This worried her and she attempted to push away from him and get down, however he held her tighter, pressing his erection against her. His rumbling growl became louder and his eyes fixed on hers.

He brought one hand from her bottom, where he was holding her tightly, and weaved it through her hair to use it as leverage to tip it back so her throat was bared to him. He was doing such precise, slow movements as if trying not to startle her. He bent so his nose was against her jugular and ran it beneath her jaw and down her neck, then bit down on the curve where neck met shoulder.

It felt so right… _so good_. Rather than being painful or scary, it made pleasure shoot through her. The instinctual part of her that had just awoken laid back and enjoyed it. If it could have started purring, it probably would have.

"You're mine", he growled. He moved his hand back to where he had been holding her to him at her hips. She vaguely realized he had been holding her up with one arm.

Some part, the same part that caused her to latch onto him like a leech only a few minutes ago, released a wave of satisfaction and relief that he had accepted her. The rest of her, the human part, was confused. The confusion left no room for the fear or indignation at being told she belonged to someone like some slave – someone she had barely met and who she had watched viciously murder someone, at that - however she was sure it would come.

"What?"

She couldn't string together words to form a more intelligent question, but that seemed to convey the fact that she had _absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on._

Had he slipped something in her drink to make her want to rub herself all over him? Shouldn't she still have been scared that she woke up in the house of someone who she saw murder a man yesterday? And was now being held very tightly against him in a way he was obviously enjoying, if the huge erection pressed against her was any indication, and just exchanged hickies with and was told that she apparently belongs to him?

"Stop thinking. I know you feel it. I know you smell it. You're mine. And you're horny as hell right now too so I'm going to take you upstairs and fuck you." It was amazing he hadn't done it already, he thought to himself. He was showing self-control he didn't even know he had, as his body was screaming at him to claim her.

"P-please", she whispered, and tried to ignore the pleasure that was spreading through her body at his words. "Stop. I don't understand."

He sighed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. If she hadn't been his, he would have fucked her over the couch right then. He knew, though, that this frail belonged in his bed and the idea of fucking her if she didn't want it didn't interest him at all either. What the fuck was this? Usually he didn't give a shit one way or another. Plenty of frails got off to him, but even if they didn't, he took what he wanted.

He tried to explain what little he knew as quickly as possible. "You're my mate. It's some biological shit. Don't know much about it, but feral mutants are programmed to find one mate and we stick with them for life. When we find 'em, we mark 'em, and we fuck 'em. Though your marks won't stay because of my healing factor."

In the back of her mind she remembered learning about ferals when she was taking her courses at university, but she wasn't a mutant, so why was she feeling it too? And why had it happened so suddenly? As soon as she had smelled him, her body had responded.

"But I don't even know you", she whispered. She looked at him beseechingly, as if asking him to understand. "I'm not a mutant. I'm scared and I don't know what's happening to me. Please."

She didn't know why she was asking him to be patient, rather than telling him to fuck off and getting the hell out of there, but the idea of being away from him made her stomach turn and her heart start pounding in fear. He was hers and they belonged together. That much she knew.

He sighed and glared at her for a long while. Finally, his expression softened just a tiny amount, enough for her to notice the flicker of it across his face.

"Fine", he said curtly, and allowed her to slide to the floor and steadied her on her feet.

"You hungry?"

She realized she was starving and nodded her head. All the weird instinct or hormone or whatever the fuck it was weird stuff that was going on had distracted her from the pain in her stomach.

"Come on, then", he grunted.

He turned and left the room and she followed. As she trailed behind him through the rest of the house – all as beautifully decorated as that first sitting room – she didn't even consider trying to run. She knew she should, even though he would probably catch her before she made it away and kill her like he did the man yesterday, but she didn't want to. She wasn't being held prisoner, she genuinely didn't want to leave him. That thought scared her more than seeing him murder someone yesterday.

Holy fuck, she had seen someone murdered yesterday. It wasn't the first time she had witness death - she had seen patients die in front of her in the hospital, but never from a deliberate murder. Her stomach turned a little, yet she still didn't want to leave this huge, menacing man. She just wanted to understand why. Her reaction only added to the confusion she felt. Take a number, she thought. Any more confusion will have to wait and I'll get back to you just as soon as I can.

They walked through a hallway covered in priceless art and done in a pale cream and lined with doors, through a huge formal sitting room, and into another huge room, although this one was totally modern, other than the small eat-in table and matching chairs at the other end of the room which were an ornate dark wood. The chairs were straight-backed and appeared to be reupholstered in a cream damask print. The appliances were all stainless steel and looked like she would have no clue how to begin using them.

He watched her face as she took everything in, feeling a small bit of pride and satisfaction that his mate was impressed with what he had. He could provide for her. She'd live comfortably, have whatever she wanted.

"I got steak, pork chops, bacon, sausage, or salmon", he said.

"That's it?"

His brows knit together and he frowned. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew having this predator upset with her was a bad idea, but she didn't feel any fear.

"Yeah, what the fuck else do you want?"

"Maybe some cereal or fruit", she suggested.

"I'll pick some up later. I'm having bacon and sausage. Tell me how you like it."

After they were finished eating, Lina asked what time it was. He looked down at the Tissot watch he was wearing.

"Nearly 10. Why?"

"I have the night shift tonight. I need to go home and get some sleep."

Even as she said it, she knew she didn't want to. Even though he was gruff and ate his meat almost raw, she liked being around him. It as if all the hum of stress and confusion and pain of the rest of life could be silenced with him.

He frowned. "No. You're staying here. You don't need to work."

"Excuse me?"

"You fuckin' heard what I said. You're not working there anymore."

She got up from the table and placed her plate in the sink. Huge predatory mutant or not, mate or not, she didn't take shit.

"I don't give a fuck what you said. I'm going. This is my residency and I don't care whether you like it or not."

He got up, his chair screeching backwards as he did.

"And I don't give a shit about whether you like it or not. You want me to find some rope to tie you up?"

His voice had reverted back to the dangerously soft tone. She frowned, a little shiver of fear going up her spine. Maybe this was the wrong approach.

"Look, this is important to me. This is what I do. And I barely know you and don't feel comfortable with you trying to tell me what I can do with my life."

His eyes were narrowed and a soft growl was emitting from his throat.

Abruptly he stopped and his face went blank. "Fine", he said, curtly. "I'll take you back to your apartment. Grab some fucking clothes, though. You're going to stay here."

* * *

She hadn't even considered defying him. Suddenly, this huge house felt more like home than her apartment ever had… she knew it was because he was there but chose not to think too far into why.

* * *

Please read and review!


	2. Anxiety

My apologies for the wait. I've been sick.

I've combined the first two chapters and this one has a new portion to it. Hopefully I'll be getting chapters up more swiftly now.

Fucking frail. No one challenged him. Ever. He was Victor fucking Creed. He was a huge, vicious, bastard of a Canadian. He'd had adamantium bonded to his skeleton twice. He'd killed more people than he could remember and loved every minute of it. And this scrawny little dark haired _doctor _came fucking everything up in his life.

He knew he could scare her into submission. He knew he should to keep her in line, but the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth. She was his mate, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. And she had balls. It was good. She would need to, to be his.

Her thoughts were similarly in turmoil. Why was she dreading going home? Why did she want to stay with him, hold him, mate with him? Wait, where had that come from? Mating was what animals did. She was a perfectly sane human. Well maybe not completely sane, given her recent lapse in rational thought, but… she had to stop herself. These circles she was going in were giving her a headache. This… person, whoever they were, had completely uprooted her. With a start, she realized she didn't even know his name.

"Um... what's your name?" he heard her murmur over the purr of the Aston Marten he was driving. She had her hands folded in her lap and was picking at the skin around her thumb. It was over an hours drive back into New York City. Most of the time he enjoyed the seclusion of his house. There was no one around to bug him and it had some of the best security around, but this was going to get fucking annoying.

He frowned. "Victor."

"Victor", she murmured, as if tasting it on her tongue. "I like it. I'm Lina."

"I know."

"How?"

"None of your concern", he growled. No need to involve her in that part of his life.

"Okay." He was a little surprised she hadn't pushed the issue like most frails would have, but he left it. No need to encourage her nosing around things where she didn't belong.

They sat in silence. She was looking out the window and had her arms crossed over her chest, she didn't look or smell uncomfortable, but it was driving him crazy. He hated small talk. Talking in general, actually, but with her, it was different. Everything was different with her.

Everything was different with him, too. It took her years to be able to ask her fellow students if she could borrow a pencil, let alone have full conversations about sex and suck on their necks… but he had _inflamed_ her. And it felt right. She wanted her mark on him as well. So everyone who saw him would know he was hers, but he had said something about a healing factor, whatever that meant.

"What is a healing factor?" she asked, curious.

He glanced over at her then back at the road, wondering if the information would upset her. She was a doctor, after all. The irony wasn't lost on him.

"I got a mutation that makes me heal real quick."

"Like an enhanced immune response?"

"Somethin' like that. Makes me unable to bruise, get sick, I can heal most breaks in a few minutes"

Her eyes widened and she gasped. "A few minutes?"

He gave a short nod.

She looked like she wanted to ask more, but kept quiet.

"Not gonna ask any more annoying fuckin' questions, frail?"

"Not if you don't want me to", she replied. Sounded just like a psychologist.

He grunted again and looked at her and nodded once. "Whatever."

She took advantage of his gruff invitation, however tried not to seem too excited or interested in this fascinating discovery. "How long have you been this way?"

"Can't remember exactly. Since I was a kid."

She saw a dark look pass over his face, but didn't comment on it. Her bedside training seemed to have kicked in and she could tell there was a lot more beneath this man's façade than he wanted to let on, but she schooled herself not to pry.

"So you haven't gotten sick or been hurt since you were a kid and you have your own weapons built in…", she murmured. "You're the perfect soldier."

He snorted. "Frail, the US army already figured that one out when I first started serving during the civil war." Let's see how she responded to that one.

She froze. Even though she did a good job of keeping her expression as neutral as possible, he could smell the shock rolling off of her.

"That makes you…"

"Over 100 years old, yeah."

"But you're… you only look…"

"Healing factor, frail. Keeps me from agin' too fast", he responded.

She looked like he had just asked her to solve pi to the last digit. They sat back in silence for a moment until she let the breath she was holding out in a big gust.

"Okay", she said, calmer now.

He shook his head, a little amused. She just kept fucking surprising him. They sat the rest of the car ride in a silence. This time he didn't feel a need to fill it. She seemed peaceful and was leaning against the seat. She kept giving him little glances. He was tempted to ask her what she was thinking, but didn't want to break the little bit of peace they were having. The past 12 hours had squeezed out more emotional responses from him than the last 12 years had.

They pulled up at her apartment. She didn't ask how he knew where it was, but assumed he had read it on her ID that was still around her neck.

"What time you want me to pick you up from the hospital?"

"I'm done at 8."

"I'll be there at 8."

She still didn't get on the car. She looked down at her hands then dragged them up to his eyes. The lack of pupils shocked her again, however she didn't jump this time. They stared at each other wordlessly and she hesitantly reached out and placed one hand over top of his on the steering wheel. She simply held it there, reveling in the contact while keeping her eyes locked on his.

Finally, she removed her hand from his and steeled herself against the anxiety that was building in her chest at the thought of being away from him. He seemed to be feeling similarly because as soon as they broke contact, he had started scowling.

"I'll see you then", she murmured, and got out of the car. Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked away.

Being away from Victor didn't give her the reprieve she had thought it would, she thought as she blow-dried her hair. All she wanted was to be with him. Even if it was just to sit with him in a car in silence, every atom of her being screamed at her to go back to him.

Although she did have a chance to consider the morning's events without further distraction, at least there was that. Her entire life had been turned upside down the moment she had smelled him but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to resent it. It was like everything seemed clearer, made more sense. The New York skyline seemed even sharper, the flowers wilting on her front hall table smelled even sweeter.

It didn't make any sense to her. The human portion of her brain shied away from the intensity of the feelings that had been awakened, but even it couldn't resist. The pull she felt to him was pleasing, despite the confusion. She was still waiting for the fear and horror but it hadn't come yet.

Then there were the things he had told her in the car… his age, his mutations… for some reason, she believed him.

The feelings she felt for him, the yearning for him to mark her all over, to claim her, to _fuck her_ as he said he was going to do earlier… that was what scared her the most. All her experience with that had been… she shuddered and stopped her thoughts from going in that direction. She didn't want to think on it, but she knew that despite her trust and the connection she felt with him, it would be a while before she could surrender herself in that way.

She was… broken. In ways she didn't think she could ever describe to him. This huge, bulking man screamed strength. But then there she was, covered in scars and regret and mistakes. How could he see anything but weakness and inadequacy in her?

The conflicting feelings, the need for him and the revulsion was overwhelming. She would consider it later, she decided. For now, she would get some rest before she had to go for evening rounds.

He was there at 8 o'clock exactly in the same shiny black car that had probably cost as much as her entire university education. The sight of him caused her to release a breath she hadn't known she was holding. He was behind the wheel and had the same pissed off look he almost always seemed to have. He had changed his clothes, though, and was wearing a snug black sweater and dark jeans. She climbed into the car, feeling awkward in her Hello Kitty scrubs, but it was almost completely overshadowed by the relief she felt at being back with him.

"Hi", she murmured. She was struggling with the gym bag full of her clothes, fresh out of the dryer, and toiletries, as well as a few Jane Austen novels she had brought "just in case."

He got out of the car with the feline grace she had noted before. She was transfixed and, before she realized she was staring, he was beside her and taking the bag out of her arms with ease. She was starkly reminded of the way he handled her as if she was 10 pounds.

He put the bag in a back seat she hadn't noticed and got back in the drivers side. She slid in beside him and the engine purred to life. Neither of them spoke as he pulled out of the parking lot, however after a minute she lightly placed her hand over top of his on the gearshift. He made no effort to move her or prevent it, so she kept it there, enjoying the contact.

She hadn't had much time to think about her situation between her rounds and observing a portion of a surgery one of the residential surgeons was performing, however she had taken enough time to realize the peculiarity of the situation she had found herself in. And then realize she didn't care. It just felt so good, so _right_. If she believed in witch craft, she would have believed he'd bewitched her. Although from what he had told her about this "mating" stuff, it didn't seem much different... being forced into spending your life with someone because of your own biology... Despite her suspicions, however, she decided to follow her instincts… to an extent, anyways.

The ache in her lower belly rekindled as soon as she saw him again, and her instincts were screaming at her to tell him to pull over and climb in his lap right then. "But what if it's just like the last time?", her mind screamed at her. She didn't think she could survive it.

He was watching her face out of the corner of his eye. She was obviously contemplating something. Her expressions had gone from peacefulness when she had grabbed his hand, to something akin to hunger, then swiftly to a pained grimace.

He wasn't going to mention it until the smell of her arousal hit his nostrils. They flared as he inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent. Well, shit. Kitten wanted to play. He allowed a low growl to build in his chest. She glanced over, confused now.

"You better stop smelling so fuckin good or I'm going to fuck you on the side of the road, frail."

It was an empty threat and he knew it. He had caught on fast enough to know that his instincts weren't going to let him hurt his mate, no matter how good she smelled. She didn't know that, though. Her breath caught in her throat and he caught a spike of fear. Years of feeding off that scent made this small change go straight to his groin.

"Please… I can't… we can't…", she was stumbling over her words, wringing her hands and focusing on them.

"The fuck do you mean?"

"I…"

"I'm not going to force you, frail, but you'll want to. And when you do, I'll be waiting. Be careful though, kitten. Patience isn't my strong suit"

They drove the rest of the way in silence until they pulled up to the gates of his Victorian manor house, set on an acre of sprawling land.

"Wow", she breathed. She hadn't taken the time to appreciate the beauty of it before, but she certainly was now. He chuckled as he punched in the key code to open the gates, noting them to her in case she ever needed them.

He pulled up to what looked to be a barn and punched in another key code before pulling it in and parking next to a Hummer. She noticed at least 6 or 7 other cars in the building, as well as an area that looked like a mechanic's shop. She assumed he serviced his own cars.

He led her back to the house, carrying her bag in one hand and holding hers with the other. They walked in a side door, which opened into the kitchen. The lights turned on automatically as they walked through the house and she had the chance to admire the décor once again. He pointed out rooms to her as they went. Sitting room, receiving room, library… they went up an elegant flight of stairs in the foyer in the front of the house and he continued the tour. Four guest rooms and his office were all spread out down a hall with his bedroom opening through double doors at the end.

Like the rest of the house, it was done in a mixture of antiques and beautifully crafted oversized modern furniture mixed in. The walls were bare, however they had been painted a deep crimson with gold crown molding around it. There was a small sitting area in front of a fireplace and two more sets of double doors, which she assumed led to the bathroom and closet. A four-poster bed dominated the space and looked to be twice the size of a king sized bed.

He put her bag on one of the chairs and sat in another. She was felt an instinctive pull to him once again. She followed it and, without a word, awkwardly straddled his lap, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. His hands came to rest on the back of her shoulders, and drifted downwards and then across her ribs toward her breasts. She eagerly pressed them into his hands and whimpered when his hands continued down toward her waist, then further to her hips and back toward her bottom. He held her and his grip tightened as her hands began to explore as well. She felt his erection starting to swell and harden in his pants as her hands travelled from his shoulders to his defined chest, then further and further down until they were just above his waistband. She brought them back to his waist and leaned into him so her head was nestled beneath his chin. They stayed like that silently.

He was itching to tear her pants off and fuck her. He knew she was aroused. She'd probably be soaking wet. But for some fucking reason, she didn't want to. He stopped himself there, knowing his frustrations wouldn't help speed things up. He'd get the reason out of her later. For now, he'd just enjoy the feeling of her soft curves pressed against him.

She was, once again, in turmoil. There were so many questions she knew she should ask, but she couldn't bring herself to, like how he afforded all of this luxury, why he had chosen her, why she was so affected by it as well when she wasn't a mutant, why he was so angry with her all the time, why it had happened so suddenly… She knew these were important questions to ask and she knew at some point she would need to ask them. The problem was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She was enjoying this. After years of devoting herself solely to studying medicine and her placement at the teaching hospital, after isolating herself and ignoring the loneliness for years, she was suddenly presented with these feelings of trust, affection, _lust_. God, when was the last time she had felt lust? Or trust? What should have taken years to develop, she had developed in seconds. Was it so wrong that she wanted to enjoy this?

She knew he was dangerous. She had seen him kill someone in front of her eyes. There was so much she didn't know about him. But it all paled in comparison to the way she felt about him, the way he made her feel, the deeply ingrained trust she had for him. This was unnatural. But she didn't care.

She felt him stirring and lifted her head, meeting his eyes. She wasn't startled by the cat-like slits anymore, nor did she flinch away.

"Better eat something, frail. Unless you want me to eat you…" he grinned, baring his fangs at the innuendo. She blushed and looked away.

"Bought you some vegetables and shit too. Don't want you to get scurvy."

"I should go get changed", she said, realizing she was still wearing the hospital scrubs.

"Closet's over there", he gestured to one of the sets of doors as he left the room. "I cleared out some drawers for you."

She was struck by this comment, although she tried not to let it show. Despite her previous musings about the intensity of this situation, this little reality check had jolted her. Didn't it usually take years before guys would clear out a drawer in their apartment for their girlfriend? What was going on? She needed answers, she decided, and if he didn't know much about this "mate" bullshit, they'd have to find someone who does.

Hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am!


	3. Revelation

Thanks to ShayChis, LadyxAbsinthe, Wings of Tears, Lola 93091, urgannagru, Mania-Is-Bliss, lilyoftheval5, AvalonTheLadyKiller, watergoddesskasey, smkelover, Ennya, RUBIKA666, LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX, ishotthesheriff23, Trinideanfan, g-love99, Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal, ForeverACharmedOne, jvbbh12, funny-kitty, and RosemaryTavington.

lilyoftheval5 - I'm mixing comic canon with the movie, so yes, the adamantium being bonded twice is from the comics.

AvalonTheLadyKiller - I'm a pre-med student and I'm Canadian :)

This chapter deals with rape. Please don't read this if you are going to be triggered or upset. Things also get quite…. Physical. Enjoy. ;)

They were eating. A very rare steak for him, scrambled eggs for her. He seemed content to eat in silence, but as she was changing into her jeans and sweater she had steeled herself to ask him about this mating business. As hesitant as she was to rock the boat, she needed answers. She needed to understand what she was feeling.

"Victor", she started. He looked up from his contemplation of the meat and jerked his head once as if to say, "go on."

"Can you tell me more about mating? What causes it and why it happened and why I can feel it too? If you don't know much about it, do you know anyone else who might?"

He frowned. "I might know someone."

"Could I meet them?"

His frown deepened. "Not so fast, frail. You got a lot of questions, I want some answers first."

"What would you like to know?"

"Why you're so squeamish about fucking, for one."

"Oh. That's-"

"And why you're so fuckin' dead set on staying at your job. You don't need it anymore. I got more than enough money."

His abrupt questions shocked her and she began jostling her leg nervously. She went over them in her head, trying to word it correctly and chose to answer the easier question first.

"I like my job. I worked hard to get into medicine and I worked even harder to get my placement at this hospital. I enjoy working with people, helping people, putting them back together."

"Hm", he grunted. He was usually the one to tear people apart, and here she was trying to fix them.

"And…I…" She took a deep breath. "What if I told you I was broken? Damaged beyond repair…."

"I'd fix you."

She found him later, sitting in the room she had woken up in not two days before. "Victor", she said softly.

He grunted, not looking up from his paper.

"I was raped, Victor. When I was 18."

She spoke it with such calm, he looked up in surprise. When he realized what she had just said, as sudden wave of anger and possessiveness crashed over him. His fists clenched and his lip curled. Well, shit. No one fucking messed with his frail. Never mind the fact that he had inflicted similar trauma on countless other women. He was going to hunt this motherfucker down and make him suffer.

She was staring at her own hands and didn't notice the emotions flashing freely across his face until she heard the growl building. Mistaking the anger as disgust with her, she started to get up to leave, although everything inside her was screaming at her to go to him and calm him down, to let him know she was okay. She knew he was dangerous, although she also knew - and she couldn't say how, but she'd bet her life on it - that he wouldn't hurt her. However it hurt that he had affirmed all of her beliefs about herself, though... maybe she was truly broken and damaged. He caught her arm and pulled her to him so she was sitting in his lap.

"I'll kill him", he promised.

As it dawned on her that it wasn't her he was disgusted with, she began to run her hands over his jaw and through his hair and then let them come to rest on his chest. Relief flooded through her.

"Victor…"

"Don't use that tone with me. No one touches what's mine."

She chose to ignore the statement of ownership, although part of her had leapt for joy at the claim. The other - admittedly smaller - part was still very weary at the idea of belonging to someone, let alone someone she had only known a few days. It was also reeling over what she had just told him. What she hadn't told anyone since she had left the police station broken and alone and terrified.

"You can't just kill someone for something they did five years ago."

"He in jail?"

"No… I didn't press charges"

"Good. Didn't want to have to break him out just to kill him."

She sighed. Was she seriously having this conversation?

"You're not getting my point. You can't just kill people, Victor. Firstly, it's against the law. But it's also immoral and wrong."

He snorted, still frowning. Immoral. Wrong. Illegal. The little frail would learn in time.

"Like what he did to you wasn't wrong or immoral and illegal?"

"Of course it was all those things. What he did was awful. It was… it was…" Her voice trailed off, but her grip on his chest tightened and released. "I wish he had never done what he did but… Please, Victor. Don't give me the option of having him killed. I'm not strong enough to make the right choice."

His frown deepened.

"I know you already killed that man in the alleyway." Had that really been just two days ago? "But just because he deserved it and you got away with it doesn't mean it's okay. He probably has a family grieving for him."

"Frail, that guy was a hired thug. He didn't have any family, beat his girlfriend, and didn't do anything good for the world. No one will miss him." The others were all the same, he added silent, but if she didn't suspect that he'd killed them too, he wasn't about to tell her.

"That doesn't make it okay", she cried. "And how do you know that stuff anyways?"

He frowned. Well shit. "None of your concern, frail."

She frowned as well, but didn't say anything else.

He was sitting in his office in front of his computer, pondering their earlier conversation. He didn't give a shit what she said. He was going to hunt this bastard down and kill him. He'd already decided that. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

He set to work for an hour, breaking into police computers and tracking down the report of the assault. He read over it, his rage building by the second. Finding it had not only gotten him the bastard's name, but it had also rekindled his determination to kill him. Not that he really needed it.

He'd finish the research later. He needed to be with his mate right now, to feel her and touch her and know she was okay. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he needed the reassurance. Right now, he needed her.

He followed her scent to his – now their – bedroom. She was curled up in one of the chairs in front of the fire there with her nose buried in a book. He stalked over silently, swiftly lifting her up and sitting back down with her settled in his lap. She adjusted herself so she was straddling him once more and snuggled against him with her head against his chest, her ear over his heart. He rested his hands on her hips and rubbed the skin there.

"That will never happen to you again, frail. You're mine. I protect what's mine."

She nodded and leaned back so she could look into his eyes. His strange, inhuman eyes. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned forward and parted her lips. They were getting closer… she was hovering over his… teasing, tantalizing… with a growl he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers.

She was surprised by the softness of them, despite the force with which he was now sucking on her lip. She felt a fang nip it and she jerked her head back, gasping. They stared at each other, both panting, and she leaned forward once again, this time moving her lips against his until she felt a fang, gentler this time, graze her lip and she opened her mouth in invitation. He took advantage, smoothly sliding his tongue into her mouth, swirling around with hers, tasting her, feeling her, grazing her teeth.

They broke apart once more with a moan and she took advantage of his momentary distraction and brought her mouth down to his neck, marking him once again. He growled and tightened his grip on her hips, allowing his claws to dig into her flesh.

She released his skin and resurfaced with a smirk on her face. She settled once more against his chest and after a while, began to doze.

He watched her for a few minutes, and then carried her to the bed. He stripped the clothes off of her, leaving her only in her underwear, and tucked her under the covers. As soon as her pants were off, he knew something was wrong. Her legs were covered in scars, some were thick, some thin, all of them crisscrossed over her body like some sick sort of modern art. With trepidation, he realized she had done this to herself. He took off her shirt and saw scars covering her stomach and arms as well. So that was why she wore long sleeved shirts under her scrubs. Fuck.

Lina woke up with something hard and warm wrapped around her. As she slowly regained consciousness, she became aware of the arms around her, pulling her tight against a warm body behind her that was snoring softly. She was tucked so close against it that she felt the beating of their heart and the rise and fall of their breath and… oh my. All of a sudden she realized that she was naked… and so was he.

By the scent, she knew it was Victor. The purring beast inside of her knew her mate's scent. Yes, she decided, he was her mate. She wouldn't fight it any longer.

She lay there, enjoying the closeness, and allowed her mind to drift to their conversation earlier. She had told her deepest secret. The secret she hadn't revealed since deciding against pressing charges. It had been his word against hers and she had been too scared, too ashamed to go through with a trial.

Victor… the name induced calm in her body until she realized with a start he had seen her body. He had seen her scars, her shame. What must he think of her? Already damaged by Frederick's assault of her, now he had seen her own assault on herself as well, her secret relief. But then, if he had seen them, wouldn't he be disgusted with her weakness? Why was he wrapped around her in his bed, if that was so?

Maybe… maybe her scars and her past weren't her shame to carry, she realized. Maybe they were Frederick's. That was who Victor was mad at, after all. Maybe he should have been the one to carry the blame. Maybe he did deserve to die. Wait, she stopped herself. Murder? That wasn't okay. She was a pacifist. She advocated for anti gun laws and freedom for Palestine, not killing someone for something that happened when she was a teenager. But then… she had changed. She wasn't that person anymore.

She was reborn. She was something new, different…. Something not entirely human. Something strange and wonderful and foreign. She was mated to Victor. She had accepted that. And in doing that, she had altered her entire psyche. Suddenly, she craved Frederick's blood.

The tightening of his arms around her and growing hardness of his erection alerted Lina to Victor's wakefulness. She wanted to purr and nuzzle, but settled for placing her own hands over his. One was around her breast, the other on her stomach. His chest rumbled and his grip tightened.

"Good afternoon, frail."

She hummed appreciatively as he pressed against her stomach and fitted his hips more tightly against hers, causing more friction for his erection against her back. Instead of being frightened, it caused her to press more tightly against his chest and turn her head beneath his chin, seeking his lips.

He obliged, pressing them together. When they broke apart, he rolled on his back, pulling her with him.

He checked the Rolex on his arm. "You've got work in three hours."

"And how do you know that?", she murmured, lifting her head from where it was resting beneath his on his chest.

"You can do a lot with computers, frail."

She knew she should have been horrified that he had hacked into the hospital's computer system and read her schedule, but she wasn't. She was just glad he had it under control. They continued to lie like that, both enjoying the peace of being together and dozing lightly, until he broke the silence.

"What are the scars from, frail?"

"I..."

"And don't fuckin' tell me you fell."

"It was… it was so hard." She whispered. "For a long time I thought I would die because I felt nothing. That's what depression is. It's not sadness or melancholy. That's your response to it. The depression is just emptiness. You can't do anything; feel anything… it never seems to end. I guess I would cut myself to feel something, to know that I hadn't fallen inside of myself so far that I could never get out."

"I should shower", she said abruptly.

His grip tightened on her for a moment, and then released. She looked down and remembered she was naked. Sure, he had already seen her body, and part of her wanted him to admire her form, to see that her body was hearty and strong and would bare them healthy cubs but – wait, what the fuck? She had just told him all of her secrets and now she was worrying about cubs? And why the fuck was she thinking about litters instead of babies? God, this mating shit was weird.

In the end, modesty won out. She crossed her arms over her chest so at least her nipples were covered, however it only served to press her breasts together and enhance her cleavage. He said nothing, just watched her with interest.

She stumbled over to the door that she assumed led to the washroom to have her shower.

When she emerged, she was wrapped in a towel and smelled of his body wash. He was still in the bed, the sheet slung around his hips. His erection began to harden once again once he caught sight of her tight little ass barely covered with the cloth. She disappeared into the closet and reappeared in a pair of pink scrubs with bunnies on them.

He grinned at her, slightly mocking. "Cute bunnies."

She blushed and returned to the bed and curled up next to him.

They were lying in bed after her shift. He had one arm slung back beneath his head, the other resting around her, deep in thought. She was curled up against him reading, when suddenly he took the book out of her hands and rolled over and pinned her to the bed, his erection digging into her. He pulled her arms above her head and held them there with one hand. The other slid down to her hips.

"Hello, frail", he grinned, his face inches from hers.

Her breath caught in her throat and she arched her back, begging for his touch. She tilted her head back, her lips parting, yearning for his to cover them. He obliged. She struggled against the hand holding hers and broke apart from the kiss.

"Please" ,she implored, struggling against the hand holding hers. He loosened his grip so she could release one, which she brought to the back of his head, stroking the hairs there. She then brought it down his bare chest, rubbing it through the rough hairs that covered it and the taut stomach muscles… all the way down to the aching erection against her hip.

Experimentally she brushed against it and enjoyed the low groan he emitted. Using the back of her hand, she rubbed down the length of it… he was impossibly big, just like the rest of him. She continued to rub him, gasping when he started kissing her neck and then biting down, marking her once again. He kept ravaging her neck as she stroked him until he suddenly stopped and reached down to grab her wrist. She gave him one last stroke before releasing him.

"Not so fast, kitten... it's your turn"

His hands drifted across her body, grazing across her chest and then down… further… he slipped his hands in her pants. She was so wet. He could smell it. He palmed her through her panties, feeling the heat and wetness.

Suddenly she couldn't breathe. All her thoughts had returned to the last time someone had touched her this way. The way he had held her arms so similar to the way Victor had. The way he had forced his hands in her pants. The way he had roughly inserted two fingers inside of her.

She began to shake, alerting Victor to her change of thought. Her breath returned to her in quick, shallow pants. She couldn't move, couldn't think, all she could do was remember.

He quickly withdrew his hand and brought both of them to her face, directing her head so she could look at him. Her eyes were widened in fear, tears welling in them but not yet spilling over. He instinctively began to purr, hoping the sound would calm her. They stared at each other for a few seconds, the purr continuing and calming both of them until her breathing started to slow, returning to normal. The tears, however, ran down her face.

"He… I… ", she was stumbling over her words. "He was my boyfriend. H-he wanted to-to do it. But I didn't. I said no. But he did it anyways. He-he ran his hands all over my body. He f-forced his fingers inside of me. He was r-r-rough. He kept telling me h-how beautiful I was, h-how much he loved me…"

Perhaps all that she had confessed earlier had triggered this, however like vomit, the words were spewing out. Words she had kept bottled up for years. "It was awful. I'm broken, aren't I? I can't even make love to you. You can't even touch me. Without remembering. It was so awful."

She was sobbing now, burying her face in his palm and letting the tears flow.

He caught her hand and held it in his, his massive hand dwarfing hers. The other clutched the back of her head, bringing it to rest against his shoulder as she cried herself out.

"You're not broken, frail. You're injured. These thoughts, they're like infections. You gotta let them out or they'll fuck you up."

He tilted her head back and she caught his eyes, the inhuman quality didn't startle her, however the tender look in them did. She sniffled and he ducked his head toward her neck and tenderly kissed the marks there before releasing her.

"You know I'll never touch you unless you want me to. I swear it to you, frail."

Her hand in his tightened it's hold, but she didn't say anything. Neither of them said anything else.


	4. Climax

I decided to give you guys another chapter earlier than I had planned... I'm sure you will all be quite pleased with it. I hope I'm keeping Victor fresh enough that you don't get bored with him or feel like you've read this all before as well as keeping the mating as believable as possible. It may be quite normal for Victor to respond to his instincts without much thought, but for most of us, it would be quite difficult to meet someone and become enamoured with them instantly the way Lina has. I'm sure there would be lots of inner turmoil involved. I hope her response has been realistic enough to read. Enjoy!

Thanks to RosemaryTavington, g-love99, Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal, ShayChis, and jvbbh12.

Risika Kiisu Seto: thank you so much for your review! I, too, love possessive Victor. And I find it very therapeutic to write about someone else's sexual assault and their moving on from that, as well as developing relationships afterward and healing from that. I hope you enjoy this chapter... ;)

* * *

It had only been seven days since he'd found her. Seven fucking days. And the change in him had been almost immediate. No longer did he mindlessly crave blood to satiate the beast inside of him; he didn't think he could have gone a week without flying somewhere to take a job. But something else was calming the beast. Something with a tight little ass and rosy nipples; the fact that he hadn't fucked her every way he knew how, despite having the opportunity to, spoke volumes. He had never spent so much time with a frail without fucking her. Even the Howlett whore spread her legs for him. Guess you could say he had a way with women.

Sure, they slept together and he made sure she was pinned beneath him and writhing with pleasure – almost begging for his cock inside of her - every single fucking day, but they hadn't fucked. They hadn't even gone near any sort of approximation of fucking since that breakdown she'd had. He wouldn't allow it. He needed her to be certain and work through her problems first. So he had given her time, given her opportunities to say no…

He had been even more hesitant because this was her ninth consecutive day of work and it was starting to take its toll on her. She was tired and most often when she came home in the morning she ate and immediately went to bed and fell asleep in his arms. Naked, though. At least he'd convinced her that clothes weren't necessary.

He had to go pick her up in a few minutes. He wasn't even pissed off about it, as he had assumed he'd be. The hour-long drive brought him closer to where she was and he couldn't find it in himself to abhor anything that resulted with her in his arms. Fucking frail. She'd housebroken the Sabretooth. Well… almost. This was her last shift for two days and there was something promising in the air…

* * *

Lina had just finished her shift and was musing about what she and Victor would get up to this morning… last night… it brought a blush to her cheeks. He had woken her up with his mouth on her nipples, trailing a fang over the hardened nub while he drew circles around the other with his claws. By the time he relented, she had her hands on his shoulder, trying to push him down to the soaking wet apex between her legs, begging him, although she wasn't positive exactly what she was begging him for.

She sat down on a bench in the small garden outside the doors where she would meet Victor. The trees beginning to regrow their greenery after a long sleep, the grass had a promising spring beneath her step, the air smelled fresh and new. Spring. It was her favourite time of year. It meant rebirth and growth. Suddenly, she came to the realization that it truly was springtime. Not just the weather, but also with her life. She had survived a long winter and was starting to thaw. She was healing and moving on and growing again, rather than being stuck in one place while life passed her by. And it was all because of him.

Victor. The name incited so many different feelings. The most prominent one was peace. She felt so protected, so cared for, so right when she was with him. Sure, he had his rages and he positively terrified her with his casual talk about murder, but it was greatly overshadowed by all the memories she had of him where he was at peace and almost seemed_ normal_. Normal for someone with fangs and claws and cat-like slits for pupils, anyways. Memories of him reading in his chair by the fire in the sitting room… Always foreign literature – often Russian and never in English. Memories she had of him holding her as she went to sleep, of the way he would help her getting dressed. She sighed. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she had fallen in love with him after only a week.

Victor's Aston Marten pulled up and she hopped up and got in. As soon as she was inside the car, he could tell a change in her scent. She smelled thoughtful and affectionate, but there was something beneath that… something that woke the animal up and had it burning for its mate… and then it hit him. She was ovulating.

He reached over and grabbed one soft hand in his clawed one and kissed the palm before starting the engine and driving away.

He asked how her shift was, how the Salmon was at lunch, and other mindless questions to keep her talking so he wouldn't pull over and fuck her. The beast was clawing at him, demanding its mate.

As they were talking she had rested one hand on his thigh. Perfectly normal… until he started smelling her getting wet. He wasn't sure she'd noticed it yet. It wasn't until her hand started inching toward his groin that he was sure she was aware of her body's change. He caught in his own with a growl.

"Hands to yourself, frail."

She looked over at him, her eyes heated. "I thought I could repay you for this morning…"

With another growl, he pressed down on the acceleration. They had to get home. Fast.

What should have been an hour long drive was shortened to half an hour with Victor's driving, although she usually would have commented on it, Lina was too distracted with the feeling between her legs and Victor's gruffness. She was squirming in her seat by the time they were at the house. As soon as she was out of the car, she was caught in his arms and he was running toward the house. They were in their room within seconds and then their mouths and hands were everywhere.

She broke apart from their kiss.

"Please, I need you", she said. Her voice was strained. Her breathing was coming in huge gasps. Her hands were around him, clutching at his muscular shoulders, her hips were pressed against his and his erection was obvious through his pants, poking against her stomach.

He inhaled through his nose and grinned his huge predatory grin, showing off his fangs. "Smell fertile, frail. Your body wants its mate."

His hands reached down to her bottom and he lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and his erection rubbed against her, settling between her legs.

They were both still wearing their clothes. She took advantage of the newly evened height difference and grabbed his head with one hand, bringing it down to hers and tangling their lips together. They moved almost clumsily, their arousal making them careless. It was wet, messy, and altogether delicious. Their lips, teeth, and tongues were everywhere tasting, biting, scraping, caressing.

Her hands moved to his chest, rubbing over the muscled torso.

They broke apart at the same time, panting and swallowing and stared at each other.

"It's time", she said.

His blinked and nodded. It was barely perceptible.

Her hands moved to his neck and instinctively, he leaned his head back, baring it to her. Her hands continued to travel to his back, then up to his hair. She rubbed her hands against it and tilted his head back down to hers.

This time when their lips met, it was infinitely more tender. He nipped at her lip, drawing blood and running over it with his tongue.

She gasped and pressed harder against him. He sucked on the injured lip, the pain causing her to start rubbing herself against his erection. A growl began building in his chest, encouraging her to rub harder.

He released her lip and set her on the ground. He then ran his claws down the front of her shirt, ripping through its fabric as well as her bra. He tore them off her before she realized what he had done and then lifted her again. This time, he raised her so her breasts were even with his face and began sucking one areola into his mouth.

She squeaked at the feeling of his raspy tongue and teeth against her nipple and balanced her hands on his shoulders, thrusting her breasts harder against his mouth.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, effectively securing her, and brought the other hand to the other nipple. He ran the tip back and forth across the erect nub, causing her to cry out again.

She was building toward orgasm, she could tell. She needed him.

"Victor", she breathed. "I need you to fuck me."

He growled at her blunt words and set her back on the ground. He tore through her scrubs and threw them off and discarded his own clothes as well. They stood there, both naked, eying the other's bodies appreciatively.

His eyes skimmed over her slender neck, delicate shoulders and arms, her full, pale breasts and the defined indentation of her waist, to the protruding pudge of her stomach and her wide, fleshy hips, then finally to her equally full thighs and small, shapely calves and ankles. _Fuck._ She was fucking glorious.

She was similarly admiring his bulky muscles, the thick, dark, hair covering his arms, chest, and legs, the harsh movements of his chest with every deep breath, and the _size_ of him. He was a walking tribute to masculinity.

She hesitantly reached to rub her hand up his stomach. His cock twitched against her. The feeling of rough hair and hard flesh beneath her hand enflamed her even further. She moved it up to his defined chest, reveling in the feel of the flesh beneath her.

He suddenly shoved her away, startling her. His breathing was ragged, his mouth slack.

"Get in the bed", he growled at her.

She obediently turned around and climbed on top of the covers, looking over at him expectantly. He walked over at her, amazing her again at how agile he was… like a giant, prowling cat.

_Fuck, she was wet. _He could fucking smell it. It was like the sweetest, most mouth-watering scent he had ever smelt. And she was f_ertile._ Her body had just released an egg and was at its most ready for his seed. He could smell that too. Altogether, it was driving him insane with need.

He needed to be inside her, his mate, so badly his head was spinning.

He crawled on top of her, moving up her body to her mouth where he delved deep between her lips, tasting her, claiming her.

"I'm going to fuck you now", he informed her.

She felt all the muscles between her legs clench at his rough, lustful voice. This was just so fucking good, so fucking right. She was _his._

She needed to claim him just as he had claimed her. She pushed against his shoulder. His eyes widened and he immediately climbed off her, mistaking her intent. He had meant what he said. He wouldn't ever force her. She rolled with him, landing with her straddling him. She leaned down to the spot on his neck she had claimed as hers and bit into the skin, sucking at the blood and licking it. The injury healed over almost immediately, but it had sated the beast inside her needing to claim its mate.

She reached between them and took hold of his erection, then guided it to her entrance. She slowly lowered herself so he sank inside of her inch by inch. Her eyes clamped shut and she let out a strangled groan as she felt him stretching her.

"Fuck, that hurts", she hissed.

A growl was building in his chest again and he brought his clawed hands up to her breasts, teasing the nipples with the tips of them.

"Slowly, frail", he grunted. So fucking tight… she was strangling him. He could barely concentrate on anything except the feeling of her pussy walls stretching and accommodating him within them.

She kept one hand between them on his erection and moved one to his chest to balance herself. She opened her eyes and looked beneath them to where he was entering her. Halfway in, she told herself. Almost there. She continued the steady pressure, easing him inside of her. _Fuck, how did nature allow this to happen?_

Finally, he was fully sheathed inside of her, her hips pressed against his. Her foot rubbed against his leg as she paused and allowed herself to grow accustomed to the feeling of him inside of her.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down so her chest was pressed against his and rolled her over so he was hovering over her again. He then eased partially out of her, and gently thrust back inside. He continued this, gently easing out and thrusting back in until she was more comfortable.

"Fuck", she hissed. "We should have done this sooner."

She tilted her pelvis up to accept his thrusts, her legs were hiked up around his hips, and her hands were gripping the comforter beneath her.

Abruptly he withdrew from her, sat up, grabbed her and tossed her over onto her stomach, inciting a gasp from her. He grabbed her hips and pulled her so she was on all fours, then eased himself back into her from behind.

She cried out, the new position making it even tighter and hotter. The sting of pain with each thrust only fueled her pleasure. He placed one hand on the small of her back and the other on her shoulder, which he used to push her back against him in time with his own hips.

His growling became louder and with every hard thrust of his hips, a whimper escaped her lips.

It was becoming too much…. She collapsed on the bed, only his body behind her holding her hips up. Both his hands now came to her hips where he gripped her and continued pounding into her with a fast rhythm.

She felt the pleasure building, with each thrust she was getting closer, she was almost there…

"I'mcomingI'mcomingI'mcomingI'mcoming." Her voice was strained, breathless, the words barely made sense because of the pleasure overwhelming her senses. With every thrust, a new wave of her orgasm came crashing over her. She felt her muscles contracting around him. Her breathing was coming in short gasps. It just kept going.

Then he came inside of her. The sensation of hot bursts of semen covering her walls was pleasurable, although a different kind of pleasure than her orgasm had been.

He withdrew from her and reached over to grab a tissue from the nightstand to wipe himself off. She noticed in her post-coital haze that there was blood mixed with their own fluids on him.

After he was finished, he tossed it beside the bed and laid back down with her, pulling the duvet so it cocooned them and she drifted to sleep.

When she woke up, all she could register was pain. She couldn't remember being this sore after that time with Frederick… fuck. She hadn't even _thought_ about him. All she had been thinking of was her need to be with Victor, and then she had been so distracted by how good he made her feel she didn't have the mental capacity to think of anything else. She was amazed. But she also needed to pee. And get some advil. She tried to slip out of his arms but he caught her and held her tighter against his chest.

"Where do you think you're going, frail?"

"To the bathroom. Please."

"Come back soon."

She couldn't think of any place she'd rather be.

The next time she woke up, she was alone and the ache was abated. She stretched, feeling all the muscles in her body expand, and sighed as she relaxed. It was a good day. She got up and padded toward the closet and put on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top before heading downstairs to get something to eat.

Victor was sitting at the table when she came in, eating a steak that looked so rare it should have been mooing. She took a seat beside him and blushed when he looked up with a wolfish grin.

"How are you feeling, frail?"

He knew. He fucking knew. "Sore."

His grin grew wider.

* * *

"So when can I meet the person who knows about mating?"

She was in his lap in the sitting room. It had been a few hours since they had woken up and they had spent them together. She was dozing lightly and he was reading Nabokov.

"You're not."

"What do you mean I'm not? I have questions to ask them."

"You got questions, I'll ask them. I don't want you anywhere near him."

"And how does he know so much about mutants? Why do you think he would know about mating?"

"He's studied them" and experimented on them, he added silently.

"I see… and what's his name?"

"Stryker. William Stryker."


End file.
